


Adventuring Thedas

by ghostboyadoresyou



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Multi, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-02-28 14:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18757996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostboyadoresyou/pseuds/ghostboyadoresyou
Summary: Just short stories of my characters and their relationships between their companions. I’m not sure how many chapters would be in this, you’ll just have to wait and see.





	1. Please Get Down, Amatus

Since Estwin lost a bet to Varric, he was told to climb to the top of Herald’s Rest. No real reason behind it, Varric just wanted to see if the Inquisitor would do it. Most of the inner circle knew the Dalish would do anything if he lost a bet as long as it was within his reasoning. 

 

There he stood, mighty Inqusitor standing a top Herald’s Rest for losing a bet. He stared down at the ginger dwarf with a truiphant smile.

 

Estwin spread out his arms and called out to Varric “Done! Anything else?”

 

He watched Varric grin “You have to stay up there for a bit.”

 

“How long’s a bit?”

 

“An hour.”

 

“Easy.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

Varric turned and left. His small figure dissapearing into the main hall. Only minutes later did another, very familiar, figure came strolling towards the tavern. The man stopped and looked up at the elf.

 

“Amatus, I love you and all, but you need to get down from there.” Dorian called from below, hands on his hips.

 

“I think I’m good where I’m at.”

 

“I’ll go get Bull… or Cullen. Either one will get you down.”

 

“Go ahead, I’ll fight them!”

 

Dorian pulled out a small pouch and held it up in the air “I have cookies.”

 

Estwin stayed still, contemplating wether or not to get down. He let out a sigh and began the climb down. Jumping the last couple feet.

 

Aproaching the other man, he reached for the cookies “I totally would’ve fought them.”

 

“I know you would.”


	2. It’s Over (Isn’t It?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Careful there’s some triggering things (?)  
> It’s meant to be after the battle with the archdemon, where the warden lives.

Pain. Wave after wave. Aching, itching, vision blurry, ears ringing. Mouth gone dry, tongue stuck. Metal taste and smell.

 

           He groaned.

 

           The warden struggled to lift a hand. Heavy and numb. He was propped up against a wall, having being thrown after the explosion. 

 

            It was done. He killed the archdemon and he was alive. In excruciating pain, but alive.

 

            Very slowly, painfully, he got his hand to his chest. He could already tell multiple ribs were broken. Using whatever mana he had left, he used it to mend few of his bones. 

 

His vision still swam. His hand fell limp into his lap.

 

           Voices echoed. Incoherent words. They tickled at the ringing. 

           Words broke through the ringing, still quiet.

 

           “.... warden where is he?”

 

           “I don’t know… searching.”

 

           The voices were familiar, but kept fading in and out. They kept searching for him, calling him. 

 

           All he could manage was a pitiful whimper.

 

           The voices got closer as his eyes adjusted. Slowly clearing. He watched their silhouettes get closer. They haven’t spotted him. The dust in the air was too thick.

 

“I’m here…” He croaked. Trying to stand, move, anything to get their attention. His arms were too weak, his legs numb. He prayed he wasn’t paralyzed.

 

           They kept calling for him. Shouting “Warden!” Never using his name.

 

           “Asar!”

 

Someone yelled his name,  _ his actual name, _ their voice familiar. All too familiar. A voice that can speaks to him in the night softly. Telling him every good thing about him. A voice that is always followed by the soft trace of fingers.

 

He craned his neck, trying to spot the owner of the voice. A silent “please” on his lips. 

 

           “Asar! Asar, where are you? Please, mi amor.” The voice almost begging.

 

            Straining harder to see through the rubble and dust. Trying harder to get to his feet.

 

_ Where is my staff? _ His eyes glanced around. No luck.

 

Harder. He slowly got to his feet. His legs weren’t paralyzed. 

 

Steadying himself on the crumbled wall behind him. Struggling to stay upright.

 

“Mi amor?” Worry dripped from those words. The voice was closer now.

 

One step forward, careful not to fall forward. He took another, and then another. One arm wrapped around his torso, the other helping keep his balance. He winced at each step.

 

His words came out strained, but loud enough to be heard to somewhere near him. “Zev? I’m… I’m right here.”

 

Hurried footsteps heading towards him. The dust was settling.

 

The figure stopped. Staring at the warden. Tan skin, blonde hair, blood stained armor.

 

The other elf’s face breaking into a slow smile. His lips releasing a shaky laugh. 

 

Zevran began to walk towards him. His eyes shining, raw around the edges.

 

“You’re ok. You’re really ok. I’m.. I'm so happy.” He reached the warden. His hands reaching out to him.

 

Asar managed a weak grin. 

           His vision blurred again, balance shifting. He tipped forward. Metal flooded his senses once more.

 

Zevran caught him, holding him close. The warden couldn’t manage anything except a low whine.

 

A comforting hand pet his hair “It’s alright, you did it. Everything’s alright now. We’ll get you fixed my dear warden.” Zev continued muttering praises into his ear as they waited for the others to catch up.

 

           He was going to be ok. He’s been found by his lover, soon by by the others. Everything is going to be alright. The archdemon was dead, he was alive, Zevran was alive. Nothing could be better.


	3. To Marry A Pirate Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammar, spelling and just mistakes are very likely. Just an psa.

“Why is it… that you do so much for others and expect nothing in return?”

 

A question to catch her off guard. The mighty Champion of Kirkwall caught off guard by a simple question by her lover.

 

“Well, I don’t need anything in return. I have you, everyone else, and this house. I don’t expect anything from the people I love.” She’d say. Her voice fading into the room, her lover staying silent.

 

The bed shifted besides her. Isabela peered at her.

 

“Even after I ran off with the tome?” 

 

“You came back.”

 

“What if I didn’t? Would you still do the same?” For once she seemed concerned. Feelings were never her thing.

 

Hawke laid there, thinking. Her mind drifting to past events. “I would think so.”

 

Silence followed.

 

“You’ve lost so much…” Isabela chuckled. “All I’ve lost is a damn ship.”

 

“I could always get you another… I probably have the money.”

 

That caught the attention of the other.

 

“Would you really buy a ship for me?”

 

“Yes, if that’s what you wish.”

 

Isabela shifted into Hawke’s lap. She pulled her into a kiss. “You know a captain can marry whoever she wants.”

 

Hawke returned the kiss. “Great, marry me.”


	4. Dubious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take this as you will.

Curled up under the desk. Papers scattered everywhere. Shallow breathing and nails digging into skin.

Doubts swimming in his mind. In and out, out and in.  _ Why? _

 

_ Not enough. Not true. Liar. You’re lying to everyone. Just be who you were born as. Why change who you are? _

 

_ “But your long hair looked so nice!” _

 

_ “That’s just a nickname!” _

 

_ “But you don’t look…” _

 

_ “So you’re telling me, you’re actually just straight?” _

 

_ “Why be something you’re not?” _

 

Damned voices. He tried to push them away, only for them to come back stronger. Overtaking his senses until there was nothing but them.

 

He felt his throat tighten, numbness starting to spread up his fingers. Hot tears built up. Blinking to ward them away but instead they slipped down his face.

 

Quietly he sobbed to himself.

 

_ Never fucking good enough. _

 

_ They don’t actually love you. _

 

_ They pity you. _

 

_ Having to run around, holding the weight on your shoulders, the flares from your hand. _

 

_ Pity. _

 

“Shut up.” He muttered. More tears kept running down his cheeks.

 

Faster and faster the voice kept going. Firing off every single thing they could manage. The words dug into his skin.

 

He didn’t hear the room’s door open. Didn’t hear his name being called. Didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

 

A hand laid itself on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. Flinch enough for him to slam his head into the desk above him. He turned to see Joshepine, blurry from his tears.

 

“Inquis— I-Iliven… I didn’t… is everything alright?” She asked. She always cared, made sure everything was ok. He lightly shook his head.

 

“Should I go get Bull or maybe Dorian? Do you want their company?”

 

He sat in silence for a while before managing a small “Yes.”

 

Josephine studied him. Nodding she carefully stood up and made her way out of his room.

 

The silence suffocated him. Tears building up again. He rubbed them away, and stared into space.

 

Seemingly hours later, the room door opened again. Two pairs of footsteps and hushed words. They stopped at his desk, only one of them walking around to him.

 

Dorian crouched down next to him and held out his arms. Numbly the Iliven fell into them. 

 

“Come on you, let’s get you into the bed. Plenty of cuddles for you there.” The mage said, helping Iliven to his feet. Bull was already fixing the bed up, it still amazed him how he could fit all three of them on it.

 

Carefully they coaxed him under the blanket. Letting him curl up between the two and ramble his heart out.

 

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Just the first that Josephine walked upon. Every time they’d hold him and just let him be. Most times Bull would stay silent, only speaking when he felt necessary.

 

Times like these were hard, but Iliven was glad he didn’t have to face them alone. Not like he used to.

 

He  _ is _ loved and he  _ isn’t _ faking it.

 

_ He is who he is. _


	5. It’s really you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warden chases after his lover in Antiva after everything in awakening. Let me tell you something... they absolutely adore each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first things first: As a raging gay I have fattest crush on Zevran. Second: I’m writing this late so this might not make complete sense and have a lot of mistakes but I thank you for putting up with me. <3  
> —   
> Also it might say Asra instead of Asar sometimes and I apologize, both the names are in my phone and sometimes correct to the other one.

            After the events of ending the blight and helping rebuild the wardens, Asar was really tired of chasing after things and people. Except he had one last person to chase after, admittedly a fun chase, Zevran Arianai. The man who stole his heart and sends him  _ suggestive _ letters from time to time.

 

            Last he heard from him, he was in Antiva dealing with the Crows. So the search began.

 

            First it began with the journey, across the Amaranthine sea and a brief stay at Kirkwall. 

 

            He did catch wind that a friend of his was living there, but this time someone swept his friend off his feet. Asar didn’t wish to bother Anders anymore than he already did. Anders was happy, that’s all that mattered.

 

            After a short Kirkwall stay he needed to make his way to Antiva. A long journey that was helped by him catching a ride with some merchants, they didn’t mind having him along. They didn’t know who he was and he was happy with that. The merchants had protection and that’s all they cared for.

 

            The merchants left him to make his own way to Antiva city, where he knew his lover was. They had business somewhere else and Antiva was just on the way. 

 

            And so he was left on the outskirts of some town watching the merchants disappear. Off to his side he could hear the people doing their own things.

 

            Pulling up his hood and shifting the pack on his pack, he made his way to the town. No one paid attention to the hooded elf, no need to. People spoke with heavy accents and pushed past each other.

 

            Asar needed to find someplace to stay the night, as the buildings shadows were stretching and the sky was set aflame with red sand oranges. 

 

            He stopped at a merchants stall and asked the man if there was anywhere he could stay the night.

 

            The man gestured down the street “There’s a tavern down that way, not too pricey and decent meals.”

 

            The warden nodded and gave a small “Thanks” before making his way down the street. A tavern was that way, conveniently placed. It was decently sized and he pushed the door open.

 

            Very few patrons sat at tables and some of their heads turned towards him. He pushed off his hood and made his way to where the tavern keeper stood.

 

            He cocked his head to the side when the warden approached “Need a room? Food? Drinks? We got all three.”

 

            Asar smiled “Just a room for the night, that’s all.”

 

            The man nodded “Alright, it’ll cost you two sovereigns.”

 

             Asar fished through the coin purse he tied to his belt and pulled out two sovereigns. Handing them over to the man he gave a small nod.

 

             The tavern keeper thrust a thumb behind him “Up those stairs, last room on the left is empty.”

 

            “Thanks.”

 

            “Yeah.”

 

            Asar walked over to the stairs and followed the man’s introductions. He stopped hearing the man saying something quietly to him.

 

            “Keep the window and door locked of you know what’s good for you.”

 

           That made the warden give out a small chuckle before continuing to his room. It was small but cozy. He locked the door behind him and kicked off his boots. He placed his pack and cloak near the bed and shuffled over to the window to look out.

 

           He watched the sky slowly shift into darker tones before making sure the window was locked. Quickly blowing out his candles and stripping off his shirt. He shifted through his pack before finding a small set of letters and a map. Crawling onto the bed, he made a small light with his magic and began reading through them, checking the map every now and again. 

 

            Time crawled by slowly and his eyelids drooped ever so lower, so he called it a night. Placing the letters and map besides him on the bed. He curled up under the sheets and drifted off to sleep.

 

— — —

 

            Morning came by quickly and dawn streamed through the window.

 

            Asar’s eyes opened and adjusted to the light in the room. He got up silently and began to collect his belongings. Pulling back on his shirt and boots, he slid on his pack only to exit the room.

 

            He made his way to the taverns main floor and approached the girl stood behind the counter.

 

            She looked at him and smiled “Oh hello! Do you need anything?” 

 

            “Directions to Antiva City.”

 

            “Oh, do you have a map? It will be easier if I just show you.” And so he pulled out a map and she pointed him on his way. “It’s about a days walk, but if you leave now you’ll be there by sundown.”

 

            He nodded and thanked her for her service and went on his way. Following the directions she gave him and only stopping to get some food from a street side stall, he didn’t eat much these days. The further he walked, the more crowded everything got and the more people who mingled.

 

            The warden pulled his map out again, as he had just entered within Antiva City limits. The sun barely visible over the buildings. He found a tavern he marked the night before and began his search for it.

 

            Carefully he made his way through the streets as night fell. Lights being lit and the amount of people dwindling. Sometimes eyes peeked at him from alleyways, but no one made a move towards him.

 

            His footsteps echoed in the streets and sometimes he’d see a flash of someone on a roof, but he kept going. Hand tightening on his pack strap.

 

            The tavern was glowing and laughter radiated from inside. He chose this tavern for the amount of patrons that pass through and the convenience of it.

 

            Pushing his way into the building, very few heads turned his way. The place was packed anyways. Behind the bar was an old acquaintance. 

            They made eye contact and the woman gestured to the stairs behind her. 

 

            He nodded and made his way to the stairs and heard her say. “Room at the top, farthest on the left side. Roof access.”

 

            He continued walking and pretending he didn’t hear her. Making his way to the room, locking the door behind him.

            Dropping his pack on the bed to shift through it again. He didn’t come with weapons but he knew a staff hid under the bed for him. He pulled out a change of clothes, more armored than what he was wearing now and began changing.

 

           Asar quickly fished the staff out from under the bed and made his way to the window. Opening it and crawling out onto the small balcony. A small wood plank balanced on the balcony and a nearby rooftop which he crossed over. 

 

            Now began the real chase.

 

            He knew his lover would be out scaling the roofs, he just didn’t quite know  _ where _ . So he began his rooftop run with only the moonlight and lights from the streets below to guide him.

 

            Roof after roof he ran until he saw another person running on the roofs across him. He slowed to a stop and crouched down. There was a high chance that was not who he was looking for.

 

            The figure kept running, roof after roof. The figure didn’t notice him crouching down in the roofs dark. They didn’t notice him slip closer..

 

             The figure stopped a roof a couple across from him and slid onto a darkened balcony. They emerged moments later and the warden got a good look at the other. He felt a smile form on his face knowing he found exactly who he was looking for.

 

            Zevran looked the same as he did the day he left for Antiva on his own. Even though his hair was a bit longer and he no longer had his braids in. His face was familiar and his tattoo forever in his memory and on the warden’s own skin.

 

            He stood on the balcony and glanced around the street. Careful to stay close to the buildings wall. Even from here Asar could see the small amount of blood smeared on his face.

 

            Carefully Asar crept to the edge of the building and watched his lover begin to scan the rest of his surroundings. Stopping when he saw the other, not quite recognizable. His eyes widened and he scrambled back on top of the buildings roof. Asar stood and watched his lover spin around to face him. 

 

            Zevran had a hand tightened around one of his daggers but he didn’t draw it. They stared at each other before Asar raised his hands in surrender. Zevran stared at him some more before letting his hand fall.

 

            A cloud drifted past the moon and the moonlight lit the two up.

 

            The blonde elf on the other side of the street let his mouth drop open as Asar sheepishly waved at him, knowing he could finally see him. Zevran whipped his head around to find a way to get to him. 

 

            Quickly scrambling a couple roofs over, Asar following his lead. They descended the buildings and let the street lights engulf them. The two stood on opposite sides of the roof just staring at each other. Neither wanting to make the first move in fear this isn’t real.

 

            Asar smilies softly and began walking towards the other. Zev stared at him in amazement before quickly closing the space between them. He engulfed the warden in his arms, lifting him to spin them around, letting out a shaky laugh. Asar letting out one as well. 

 

            Asar could feel it, the tears bubbling up and the happiness and lover engulf him. He felt his feet touch the ground and he just melted into Zevran's arms.

 

            “It’s really you.” Zevran said quietly, his voice a bit shaky. Hugging the warden tighter. Asar could only nod and let his tears fall.

 

             They stayed like that, embracing each other in the middle of the street bathed in the streetlights. Quiet sobs coming from the warden while his lover murmured to him and held him close. 

 

Asar was happy, really happy.

 

            He was in the arms of the man’s he loves the most and he finally felt alright. He didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to leave him. Of course he knew they had to separate once more sooner or later, but afterwards? 

 

  No one would be able to separate them after that.

_ No one. _


	6. Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one told her...

            No one told her how hard it would be. How hard it would be to watch your loved ones be dragged away, trying to grasp onto them. Only for them to slip between your fingers like sand. To watch the life drain for their eyes, hearing the world go silent.

   

            No one told her that she’d have to lose everything just to gain something.

 

            No one told her she’d have to watch her brother die before her, watch her sister be dragged away, hold her mother until her last breath. No one told her she’d watch the love of her life run off after soms stupid artifact only to come back briefly, barely being seen for the next couple years.

 

            She’s lost so much. No matter what she got it would dance beyond her fingers, flying away in the wind.

 

            She watched the city she called home for so long burn, watched as two city powers taught, watched her closest friend destroy the balance. She did what she had to.

 

            Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, supporter of mages rights, has been through enough pain. She wanted to feel again. So long she’s been laughing it all off, saying everything’s fine. Nothing was fine. 

 

            She felt empty, yet she still grasped onto a sliver of love she had. Holding onto the pirate she called hers, vowing to never abandon her. 

 

            No one told her how beautiful light dances when you’re staring into your lovers eyes. No one told her how she’d smile whenever her lover when on about something. No one told her that she could love someone without loving herself.

 

            Marian Hawke, lover of a pirate queen and trying to feel again. She was alive, she was ok, and she wouldn’t trade anything to feel the love she does.

             Of course she still wishes her family was with her, but she believes they’re in a better place. Her sister far from anymore pain. Safe.

 

            The Champion Of Kirkwall has been through enough, can’t you see that?


	7. Origins

              The tale tells of a mighty warrior who stuck down the archdemon with one sweep of his sword, who fought through hordes of darkspawn by himself, who towers above most men and can take on an army by himself. The tale couldn’t be farther from the truth.

 

              The archdemon being killed was an effort of multiple wardens, even if the tale says only two were left in Ferelden. It was five wardens, who lived and traveled for a whole year together. They all found more people who were willing to stop the blight. Together they made their way across Ferelden, making enemies and allies, gaining help from people, and placing the new King and Queen on the throne.

 

              It started with Alistair, the first warden, technically. He could’ve led the group but decided he wasn’t fit for it. Eventually he was convinced to marry Anora and become King of Ferelden. When the recruits came he was already working as a full fledged warden.

 

              The warden recruit that came after him was an elven mage by the name Asar Surana, at age nineteen. He didn’t speak much, being selectively mute and all. Most of the time he’d be flipping through books about magic spells or making impulsive decisions that usually got him in trouble with Duncan. After the battle of Ostagar he was voted to lead the small group they formed eventually becoming the Warden-Commander after the blight. It’s rumored he disappeared after the events of Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep to run away to Antiva with his lover.

 

              A few weeks after Asar was recruited by the Wardens, Duncan found another recruit. Her name is Anaya Cousland, her family slaughtered with only her dog left to keep her company. She’s a strong warrior at twenty five. Anaya fell silent after those events. She became quick friends with Asar, who taught her sign language, and kept him out of trouble when she could. Among the group she was known as the one to watch over them all. No one knows what happened after the blight but word has it she’s close to Lady Nightingale. 

 

              Next came an elf from the Denerim Alienage after killing his way to save a few women from an abusive local lord. His name is Shawn Tabris, a brash rouge who lost his mother fairly recently after just turning twenty one. Shawn didn’t talk much but easily got along with the other two, slowly learning sign for them. He’d get in fights with others over small disputes especially if they were about his newfound friends. After the blight he disappeared, briefly showing up again to chase after a witch. Some people say he’s still in contact with his close friends and has a lover that joined the Inquisition.

 

              The last recruit that joined was only seventeen, his first name unknown so he was always called by his last name: Mahariel. He wasn’t quiet but he wasn’t exactly loud either. Mahariel spoke when spoken to. Before he became a recruit he lived with his Dalish clan, with his closest friend Tamlen. The two eventually stumbled upon an eluvian and Tamlen disappeared, leaving Mahariel to suffer with the blight poisoning his blood. Duncan took him as a recruit and eventually he joined the rest of the recruits as the youngest member at seventeen. During the fight with the archdemon he was killed in action but his body was later found clutching a Dalish necklace.

 

              After their joining each of them were gifted a necklace called the Warden’s Oath. Alistair never wore his, as he had his joining long before the new recruits. Meanwhile the four of them agreed to keep them on for as long as they were alive, a reminder of each other. All of them have kept in touch over the years that passed. Eventually they all ended up meeting once more at Skyhold, agreeing to help the Inquisitor seal the breach once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I haven’t updating this one in almost a year! I’m so sorry! I’ve been dealing with school and personal relationships and everything’s just going down hill. Hopefully I can update this more since I’ve also been writing more!
> 
> Love ya!


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